


As Needles Point Towards the Pole

by misbegotten



Category: Lewis (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, Introspection, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-25
Updated: 2016-09-25
Packaged: 2018-08-17 05:16:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8131889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misbegotten/pseuds/misbegotten
Summary: His surprising lodestone. Magnetic. His means of navigation.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [divingforstones](https://archiveofourown.org/users/divingforstones/gifts).



> For divingforstones, who writes beautifully in all things. Errors are, of course, my own.

Robbie is on fire. He wakes, sweating.

James is a furnace next to him. "Shh," James murmurs, still mostly asleep. And yet, of course, attuned to Robbie's every mood. His hand stirs, brushing across Robbie's forehead. Robbie turns into the palm, heat welcome against his clammy skin.

He slows his breathing. Tries not to wake James further, but it may be a hopeless cause. His heart is pounding out of his chest. He shifts, moving lower to put his ear against James' ribcage. Attempts to match his pulse to James', which is quickening but a much more reasonable thump-dub, a soothing reminder that James is here.

James, his surprising lodestone. Magnetic. His means of navigation. James has told him that lode is Middle English for journey or way. That's appropriate too. The journey to James was, is a puzzle to Robbie. How did he end up with this fascinating, infuriating, dead sexy, comfortable, and comforting man in his bed?

Guts on James' part, mostly. Robbie never thought of himself as particularly adventurous when it comes to love, but James has led him across boundaries he thought impossible, guided him with patient, gentle exploration to a new semblance of self. Robbie + James are his new coordinates. The sharp edges of James' too-skinny frame his new harbour. The east to his west, south to his north.

Right now, James is nuzzling Robbie's hair. "Shh," he repeats. And, sleepily, "'M here."

If James is his adventure, Robbie is a happy wanderer. The remnants of the dream are fading, and his body is stirring as James curls into him. He ignores the desire, concentrates on the now-familiar skirt of James' lips across his hair, skin. Soul. James may be the poet in the family and Robbie may stumble trying to express his delight in the constant presence of James, but Robbie knows that there's a label in his heart with James' name on it. Appended with the word "mine." He'll cross fire to keep James. He'll cross deserts, and wind-blown plains, and marshes, and the banks of the Isis. He'll drown and burn and freeze.

But for now, he has the dozy familiarity of James radiating heat and a comfort that James cannot turn off even when he's not alert. He leads Robbie back down the rabbit hole of dreams.

And Robbie sleeps.

**Author's Note:**

> As needles point towards the pole,  
> When touched by the magnetic stone;  
> So faith in Jesus, gives the soul  
> A tendency before unknown.
> 
> Till then, by blinded passions led,  
> In search of fancied good we range;  
> The paths of disappointment tread,  
> To nothing fixed, but love of change. 
> 
> But when the Holy Ghost imparts  
> A knowledge of the Saviour's love;  
> Our wand'ring, weary, restless hearts,  
> Are fixed at once, no more to move. 
> 
> John Newton, 1779. James knows the original well. Robbie prefers his own version.


End file.
